


When A Ghost Comes Knocking

by SickoTaylor (FeederMercury)



Series: Get Well Soon (A Collection of Queen Whump) [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Brian May Whump, Car Accidents, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Food Issues, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Blood, Oneshot, Over-Eating, Punishment, Real People as Fictional Characters, Self-Denial, Sick Character, Sickfic, Sort of kidnapping, Trauma, Vomiting, Whump, Worry, food denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 16:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeederMercury/pseuds/SickoTaylor
Summary: After a car accident, Brian is presumed dead. However, when he suddenly shows up on the band's doorstep things become complicated.





	When A Ghost Comes Knocking

**Author's Note:**

> The version of Queen I am using in this story are fictional, not to be associated with the real members of Queen.

It had been a year since they'd last seen Brian.

Searched for, lost hope, presumed dead. It didn't sound right to any of them but that's what the police told them. " _We're sorry,"_ They said. " _There's nothing more we can do."_ A funeral was never held, as per Roger's request- and screaming to not lose hope in the cause.

" _You're all giving up hope, and he's out there!"_ Roger shouted. " _He's out there freezing and probably hurt and you lot are in here telling me you're giving up?"_

It was heartbreaking to see Roger like this as they were almost sure Brian had died soon after the car accident. Frozen to death, starved, hypothermia, a list of things could have gotten to him before he found civilization and warmth. It was a less than zero chance that he was alive and well enough to survive long, especially after the first six months.

The winter chill and blizzards covering the roads that night he'd passed were to blame for his car flipping, most likely crushing him under the weight of his vehicle. No body was found in the car, only a tuft of curled hair and a long, thick, trail of frozen blood tracking out of the car and into the wilderness before ending suddenly. It was clear he would be dead as soon as the vehicle was found in its mangled state and seeing the trail of blood was the worst for all three of the men.

The first few months were hell for Freddie especially as he took every waking moment to search for answers along with Roger, leaving John to clean up the trail of tears and broken hearts as he knew it was unrealistic to look for him in this weather.

Now, a year later, the weather was warm and the sun had long melted all of the harsh snow covering the wilderness, streets, and homes. All three had placed their grief in the back of their minds in hopes to recover and perhaps even move on from losing their best friend.

Though, sometimes, when someone you thought was dead knocks on your door it's more terrifying than a happy occasion. Brian stood in front of the door, skeletally thin and shaking. His hair was down to his shoulders and knotted while his face had a thin layer of hair spread across his cheeks which was also matted in filth. Roger was going to speak but found his jaw wide open in shock and unable to speak but when Brian suddenly collapsed into his arms, he screamed.

"Roger?!" Freddie shouted as he raced into the living room, John following close behind. Once they saw who was in the young man's arms, they both followed suit in their shock.

"I can't hold him up, help!" Roger shouted as he sank into the floor, tears beginning to sting his eyes.

Freddie and John grabbed their friend and hoisted him to the couch where he slumped awkwardly, his long legs folding over the end of the couch. It was like a ghost had entered their home and by the look of it, it wouldn't be surprising if Brian  _was_ a corpse. 

Brian didn't wake until late into the night but when he did, he shot up with a loud and panicked gasp as he looked around his surrounding area in complete fear. Freddie raced to his side and held his wrists once the man decided to fight back to his gentle touches, though he was so weak and thin it wasn't hard to hold him back as he struggled.

"Brian-  _Brian!"_ Freddie shouted which seemed to soothe him. A glass of water and a sandwich made an appearance next to the young man suddenly. Brian grimaced as he looked into his friend's eyes before suddenly beginning to sob violently. The singer pulled him into a tight hug and attempted to ignore the pain of Brian pulling his short black hair into his hands tightly for support as he squeezed him closer.

"It's okay," Freddie soothed as Brian continued to choke on his cries of anguish. "you're with us now."

He didn't speak for nearly an hour after waking, instead opting to drink water glasses faster than Roger could fill them before he finally choked out a small " _Thank you..."_

It was enough for them and they all gathered around the living room while Brian sat in front of the fireplace in the middle of the room, quietly drinking down his glasses of water. They were all certain they had lost their friend for good but here he was, sitting at their fireplace and drinking their water.

Roger approached carefully before ghosting his fingertips over Brian's thin shoulder, receiving a startled gasp as he turned to see soft blue eyes staring back. "Are you hungry?" He asked quietly. Brian nodded almost guiltily, and his sandwich that was abandoned was quickly given back to him. 

Watching him eat was almost depressing. He took slow, gentle bites and looked for approval at each nip of the bread which he was of course given, and told he didn't need to feel bad. It took quite some time before he was fully eating and once he began, he didn't stop. Brian didn't ask for more, he simply sat back and waited for more to be brought to him as if it was a privilege to be given food. To him, it was.

After his third sandwich, which he ate in only two large, ravenous bites, he finally began to do something other than look ill and desperate. Brian sat up and began to run his hands over his fresh pair of clothes that weren't caked in dirt and god know's what else, and eyed all of his friends in the room.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled. He earned odd glances from each of the men.

"For what?" John asked in confusion.

"I left you. It's been..." He paused to count as best he could. "Months..."

The three stopped. Months? It had been over a year, and he was telling them it had only been months. Brian was in no place to receive news as ground shattering as being told it had been much more than months, and each silently agreed not to tell him.

"This isn't your fault, you didn't mean to flip the car. You were just scared, I knew you were still out there." Roger inserted with almost a smile.

Brian didn't reply, merely shuffling his now empty plate around the carpet absently before raising his hands to his bearded face with a look of uncertainty.

"Let's get you in the bath, huh?" Freddie asked to which Brian only replied by allowing himself to be guided into the bathroom by the hand. When inside, Freddie filled the sink with hot water and began to dip a shaving razor into the pool before lathering his friend's face in shaving cream.

"You look older with the beard, love." The mustached man commented and Brian nodded as he stared deeply into the mirror, his eyes surrounded in hollow black from lack of sleep.

His entire face looked to be older from the stress he'd been put under from the past year, wrinkles had begun to form under his eyes and cheeks. Being cleanly shaven helped him look more like himself but also exposed his newly-sharp cheekbones and thin neck. Brian examined himself in the mirror, running his hands over his newly shaven face in curiosity while Freddie ran the bath.

Roger and John idled in the living room anxiously, Roger nearly pacing a dam into the carpet as he walked back and forth.

"He's so thin, did you see him?" Roger asked while John confirmed with a nod. "He has a beard...Did you see that? What if he lived in the woods and needs to re-learn everything? I saw that on the telly once..."

"You saw him, Rog, he isn't devolving. He's tired and probably in a lot of pain." Hearing this made Roger's eyes widen in fear for his friend.

Inside the bathroom, Brian had climbed into the tub with Freddie's help and settled down into the warm water. It gave his entire body chills from the temperature change and even pulled a smile out of him which was lovely to see. Freddie took a cup and ran it through his friend's hair as he sat patiently, using his hands to run the filth covering his skin off into the darkening bath water. His hair was the worst of it and for a moment Freddie almost believed he would need to simply shave Brian's head.

His torso was incredibly thin and pale, covered in healed cuts and new bruises that looked particularly painful. 

It took quite some time but eventually, his curly hair was straightened and clean with soap and water. The water in the tub had become less clear and browner, which Brian paid no attention to while Freddie began to use sink water to run over his friend's torso instead of re-using the filthy suds surrounding him.

Once he was out of the bath, he was given a fresh pair of clothing and lead into his old bedroom. It was the same as it had been when he'd left, including his wallet that was left lazily on the unmade bed. As soon as his head met the pillow he was asleep and snoring. Roger, John, and Freddie watched from the doorway with painfully sympathetic gazes.

"Do you think he's gonna be okay?" John asked quietly.

"He's gonna need some space...He's ill." Freddie replied.

"I missed him." 

They all agreed.

In the morning Brian was woken up carefully, but they found that he had already been awake that night as the fridge door was open and food missing that they soon found under the young man's bed. The confusion was the first response, followed by concern.

When Brian eventually woke, his hair a mess once again and his eyes glazed, he was met with the food he'd taken now cradled in Roger's hands.

"This was under your bed?" He asked, obviously perplexed. Brian didn't say anything but gave a concerned look that was growing into anxiety. Expecting a reply, Roger shook the bag of bread in one hand which got his friend to jump.

"I just..." Brian took a hard swallow. "I'm sorry, I was hungry."

Roger didn't want to frighten him, but it seems he accomplished exactly that. He gave a sympathetic look and re-adjusted the food items tucked into his arms from Brian's bed. "You could have just asked one of us, Bri."

He once again didn't reply and only gave an even more anxious look. Not wanting to cause any more trouble, Roger nodded and exited the room while Brian sorted himself out.

"That was all under his bed?" John asked as Roger set down the multiple items. A loaf of bread, peanut butter, and multiple cans of fruit were what he had stashed away for himself.

"Yeah, I guess he just isn't used to being in a house anymore..."

When Brian finally sauntered out of his room, he was pale and shaking harshly which was hard to conceal as he was swallowed by his clothes hanging from his body. He felt as if everyone was angry at him for what he'd done, and felt especially bad when he saw the items laid out on the counter.

"I'm sorry- I won't do it again," Brian told, his hands running through his hair quickly.

"It's okay, dear." Freddie smiled, pulling a hand over Brian's back. "You're just settling in. Are you hungry?" He was and nodded. They made him two slices of toast with some of the fruit he'd stashed away and watched as he slowly ate by himself at the counter next to John.

They could hear his stomach betraying him with every growl it produced and were well aware he was pacing himself in anxiety, but as soon as they began a conversation and took their focus off of him, he left his food alone before tucking one of the pieces of toasted bread into his pocket for later. In his mind, he wasn't going to allow any of the men in front of him take away the one meal he's had in so long.

"Is that better?" Roger asked as he assumed Brian had finished his meal. He nodded with a small smile, tapping his hands on the counter in front of him. "Next time you wanna eat just tell one of us. If you eat too much in one sitting you'll hurt yourself." 

Brian heard the warning but placed it in the back of his mind, instead deciding to become sneakier with how he stashed his food away such as hiding it on his person. 

After the car accident, Brian had woken alone in the freezing cold. His blood froze to his cheeks and head mid-drip and moving was a chore. He eventually, after much strain, pulled himself from the car and crawled on to the side of the road where he laid down to tend to his wounds. Instead, however, it became too cold to continue and he soon found himself drifting away into a warm sleep. He was simply too exhausted to continue to stay awake.

When he woke up he was in a warm bed, surrounded by blankets and a fire burned nearby based on the sounds of crackling. His head was bandaged and the blood froze to his head was cleaned off, no longer pinching his forehead when he moved. Brian examined his area and found a young man sitting by the fire, poking it tenderly with a plate in front of him with crisps and mashed potatoes that smelled delicious.

"Oh, you're awake." The man said, grinning as he held the plate up. "You've been asleep for...Gosh, nearly a week."

A week? It didn't sound right. Brian gave a confused glance as he raised a hand to his head and winced in the sharp pain that suddenly shot through his body. The plate was handed out to him and only then did he realize how hungry he was. Brian began to devour the crisps handful by handful while the man in front of him watched with a smile. 

"Thank you so much," Brian mumbled through a mouthful. "I had an accident do you have a phone?" 

"Unfortunately no. I don't get many signals out here, especially with this winter!"

Brian slowed down and looked through the window cautiously. The winter frost had completely overtaken the window's frame, causing it to be completely matte. He hesitated for a moment before swallowing the mouthful he had.

"You're ill- I have supplies here for the nasty gash on that head of yours..." The man mumbled. He was less friendly now, more intimidating. He was much smaller than Brian was but sufficiently stronger, therefore he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight.

"Okay... I'll just...Wait until the storm passes." Brian said with worry. He gripped his plate a bit tighter as he finished up his crisps.

The storm didn't pass, and after far too long of staying inside of that small cabin with that man was when the villainy of the man's intentions began to show. Brian returned to his health only three weeks of staying with him, only being given the name Sir, but everything he did around the home to help was wrong and therefore he would be punished by having the little food he'd be given taken away from him.

Brian's attitude towards the ridiculous punishment went from " _This is bullshit, you can't just leave me here alone without food!"_ to " _I'm so sorry. I'll never do it again. Please just give me something."_ quite quickly as the months went by and his body grew weaker. He wasn't allowed out of the house as he was told the storm would kill him from how weak he was, and that he would be taken care of. That  _this_ was him being taken care of.

Each time Brian would mention how he needs to call his friends, as they're most likely worried about him, the man would tell him how ridiculous he was being and how it hadn't been that long, which only angered him and extended the time he had to be left without food.

When the winter passed, the time passed was almost a year, though Brian was told it had only been a month. As the days blended together, he had no reason not to believe this. " _It's only been a month..."_ Brian would think. " _I'll be better soon."_

When the snow melted and the ice turned to drip, Brian knew this was his chance to leave. It happened in the middle of the night, he brought a loaf of bread and as many water bottles he could fit in his pockets with him and slipped out into the night while his captor slept. It was chilly at night, but not as chilly as the frostbitten winter he'd known from past months.

Brian found himself in the woods for weeks on end, keeping time by how the sun and moon looked as he walked. His bread and water had long since depleted and he was left with an empty plastic bag and bottles. After far too long of walking and giving up hope, he found a familiar road sign and followed it all the way home where he was met with his best friend's shocked expression before it all went dark.

Now, in the home with his friends, it was different. Food was a gift and they didn't seem to realize this as they threw away half-eaten bags of crisps, snacks, and meals. He knew hoarding food would get him in trouble but he now had more room to hide said food and therefore wouldn't be caught.

At night Brian would exit his bedroom quietly and take small amounts of food and leftovers, quickly eating them or bringing them back to his bedroom where he placed them under his mattress. Freddie was the first to begin noticing how food just bought would mysteriously disappear and no one would take the blame for eating or throwing it away, especially Brian who refused to acknowledge the absence of the food at all.

His plan seemed perfect until the night he made a mistake and decided to grab the one thing in the fridge he was blissfully unaware had long since gone bad. Brian ate it right there and then, deciding that he didn't want to wait until he returned to his room as he was quite hungry already. By the time he'd finished, eating faster than normal and practically stuffing his face before he was done with the last bite, it was too late to realize what he'd eaten had gone rotten.

The flavor was fresh enough to not be noticeable at first but when his stomach ache settled in and he began to have violent, twisting, cramps he knew he had made a mistake. Brian put away the rest of the food he'd taken and bent himself over the sink, suddenly coughing up the rotted dinner. The noise of his vomiting alerted the rest of the home and John quickly rushed out of his room to find Brian slumped on the floor, holding his stomach in pain. 

Roger and Freddie were slower as they were heavy sleepers, but once they came into the kitchen they were at his side. His face was scrunched into a painful grimace as the cramps turned his stomach.

"What happened?" Roger asked in a hurry, near panicked.

"I don't know he was just throwing up," John replied as he scanned the room before landing on the empty container. He picked it up and showed it off to the other two men, catching Brian's eye and forcing him to whimper in guilt and fear of punishment.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked..." Brian groaned as he bent his head down in shame. "You can give me any punishment, I'll take a week."

The rest gave him highly worried and confused looks. A week? Of what? They had no intent or even thought of punishing him for accidentally gorging himself on a long sour meal.

"A punishment?" Freddie asked, placing a hand on Brian's shoulder as he lurched forward again to keen in misery. "Brian we're not gonna punish you..."

"No, it's okay," He grimaced. "I'll take it, I won't even get near the fridge. I won't eat anything."

The tension in the room couldn't be cut with a knife. Roger bent down to his knees and grabbed his friend's shoulders before pulling him in close as tears stung his eyes.

"Whatever happened...I'm so sorry." 

This was one of the first friendly touches Brian had in quite a long time, and he took it happily by wrapping one arm around his friend's back while the other pressed against his stomach to soothe it. They placed him in bed after his near-tearful refusal to go to the hospital. Roger stayed with him in case he got ill again in the night, but he slept peacefully which was the first since he returned.

He continued to hoard food, but over time it became less of a survival technique and more of something to snack on in bed if he woke up hungry. He eventually became comfortable enough to eat in front of his friends once again, and the painful memories of being starved as a punishment dulled as they were replaced with the warm friendliness of those who he shared a home with.

Brian and his little family took care of each other, and they vowed he would never be punished with starvation ever again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> possible part 2?


End file.
